


Until You Remember

by artandatrocity



Category: Glee
Genre: AU, Angst, Drama, Infidelity, M/M, Memory Loss, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-03 21:28:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artandatrocity/pseuds/artandatrocity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt and Sebastian became friends in high school before moving on to being more than friends. Both are accepted to their colleges of choice in New York and make the decision to move in together. Not long after, Kurt suffers an accident that causes massive memory loss spanning nearly two years. He remembers his friend, but not his boyfriend.</p><p>Years later, Kurt has almost forgotten Sebastian entirely and is in a long term relationship with Blaine. When Sebastian suddenly appears, claiming that he and Kurt are married, the couple is completely blindsided. All that's left to do is figure out the truth and stumble through the ensuing emotional minefield.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fhartz91](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/gifts).



> A huge thank you to fhartz91 for giving me a prompt, thereby forcing me to get off my ass and actually write.

**December 11, 2012**

Kurt Hummel entered his New York apartment, pausing only to remove his shoes before moving into the living room, dropping his black duffle bag on the floor, and collapsing onto the couch. The clock reminded him that it was not quite 6:00pm, but considering that they were far enough North near the middle of December, darkness shadowed the sun more than an hour ago. Only the constant glow of city lights filtered through the windows to illuminate the cozy space, no sound in the apartment apart from outside raucous and Kurt’s even breathing. Falling asleep right here seemed like such a simple option, but he knew it would prove a regrettable choice once he awoke. Instead he allowed himself a few minutes of relaxation; just enough time to let the tension in his muscles dissipate a bit. Sighing, he forced himself into a vertical position, moving toward the bathroom for a quick shower before starting on the stir fry he planned to make for dinner.

Elated as he felt to be a NYADA student there was no denying that a long 3 ½ years stretched ahead of him. Three months into the program he already felt like he might tip over at any minute, without warning. Between the bookwork, acting workshops, dance classes and late nights spent finishing homework five days a week, by the time Friday nights rolled around Kurt rarely made it to 9:00pm before passing out. Fortunately his roommate and boyfriend of over a year, Sebastian, understood this exhaustion and never complained about Kurt being dead to the world at the end of the school week. After all, on weekends he always made up for what Sebastian fondly referred to as his “old man behavior.”

However this particular Friday evening Kurt, though physically drained, felt abuzz with an unusual amount of energy. He smiled as hot water streamed across the pale planes of his faintly aching body and steam swirled delicately around him. Happily, he reflected on the steps that led him to this moment, this night, this plan he concocted.

Sebastian transferred to Dalton during their junior year. They shared a few classes, but for the first few weeks Kurt found the new boy abrasive and rude, most often choosing to ignore his snide comments about pretty much everything. As a cruel twist of fate they ended up partners for a two week history project, forcing them to interact. Much to Kurt’s surprise, the experience wasn’t as awful as he expected. Sure, the first couple of days were rough, adjusting to Sebastian’s nicknames and air of arrogance. Soon enough, however, they fell into a routine of comfortable teasing and vaguely flirtatious banter, ultimately completing the project and receiving the highest grade in the class. Afterward, the new friends became nearly inseparable. Towards the end of the summer before their senior year, Sebastian finally bit the bullet and asked his best friend out on a date. Kurt agreed, and the two were together from there on out.

When Kurt was accepted to NYADA and Sebastian received his acceptance to NYU, the couple never even considered the idea that they wouldn’t move in together. The Smythe family could more than afford a small apartment for the couple and happily did so, claiming that the two should be allowed the freedom to focus on school during their freshman year, rather than finding jobs right away. Both boys agreed to make the move in July, giving them time to get comfortable and adjust to their new surroundings before school started in Fall. Kurt remembers this as the best summer of his life; exploring the city, decorating the apartment, and spending copious amounts of time naked with his gorgeous boyfriend.

Once school began, they quickly settled into their separate routines. At times one would grow frustrated by lack of attention from the other, but each argument was resolved with the acceptance of the fact that they were in New York first and foremost to complete their educations. Both made sure to carve time out for each other. Whenever possible they would eat dinner together, Kurt doing the cooking or Sebastian ordering the takeout. As often as possible they set aside a string of consecutive hours on Saturdays or Sundays to either go out on the town or lounge around the apartment in their pajamas while watching movies. Even though they were often tired by the end of any given day, their sex life was still plenty satisfying. True, the frequency of their intimate moments dwindled considerably at the end of summer, but when the opportunity presented itself each man certainly made the most of it. Life together became progressively more comfortable every passing day, rendering Kurt incapable of imagining a future without Sebastian by his side in this domestic and intimate, albeit sometimes difficult, way.

Their shared history led Kurt to this current moment, rinsing the last globs of conditioner from his freshly nourished hair and mentally rummaging through his closet for an outfit to change in to. He stepped out of the tub to dry off, proceeding to moisturize his newly scrubbed skin and manipulate his hair into its signature up-do style. Deciding exactly what to wear, he padded to the shared bedroom and made a beeline for each article of clothing. After donning a pair of simple black skinny jeans, crisp white button-up shirt and smart, classic gray vest, he added an understated gold pin featuring an interminable bird taking flight. Appraising himself in the mirror and deeming the look satisfactory, Kurt slipped one last thing into his pocket before moving out to the kitchen. Feeling slightly giddy, he grabbed an apron and assembled necessary ingredients and cooking implements before placing his iPod on the dock, selecting an upbeat playlist. Humming along to the music and merrily chopping vegetables, the man considered the rest of his evening, choosing to focus only on positive potential outcomes. Tonight would be perfect, both for himself and his boyfriend. He felt sure of it.

*****

Shortly before 8:00pm, Kurt heard the front door open.

“Hey babe, sorry I’m late,” boomed Sebastian’s voice as he bent over to untie the laces of his patent leather Oxfords, “what do you want me to order for dinner toni…”

He stopped mid-word, sniffing the air. The scent of brown rice and their favorite teriyaki sauce tickled his nose. Unless he was mistaken, the smell of beef mixed in with the smell of succulent vegetables. Kurt never brought red meat in to the household; a fact Sebastian long-since learned to deal with by occasionally sneaking off for a burger during lunch breaks at school or going for a steak when his boyfriend was out for the night. Sebastian wracked his brain for any reasonable scenario that would cause Kurt to make this extremely rare exception tonight. It wasn’t their anniversary, both of their birthdays weren’t until Spring and to Sebastian’s knowledge Kurt hadn’t done anything to feel guilty about or try to make up for. Maybe he had some bit of good news to celebrate? 

Striding around the corner in to the part of the living room designated as their dining area, Sebastian found Kurt standing beside a fully set table, complete with candles, steaming bowls of mouthwatering food, wineglasses and a bottle of decent cabernet sauvignon.

Sebastian quickly schooled his involuntary look of surprise into a sly smile, stepping forward to embrace Kurt and place a sweet kiss to his soft lips.

“What’s all this? You never cook on Fridays. Honestly I expected to find you moisturizing and getting ready for bed.”

Kurt grinned in return.

“Well, let’s just say I felt particularly alert when I got home. I figured I might as well put that energy to use.”

Not wasting an opportunity to use the gift of his expressive eyebrows, Sebastian’s smile turned into something more akin to a smirk.

“Feeling alert, eh?”

Even after all this time, Sebastian still knew how to make the other man blush. 

Predictably flushing red, Kurt batted him away playfully.

“You know what I meant, ‘Bas. I just thought it’d be nice to change up the Friday routine a bit.”

Laughing, Sebastian pulled him in for another quick kiss before the two sat down at the table.

For the next 45 minutes they sipped wine and took their time savoring the delicious meal laid out before them. Each told stories of their week that they had yet to share, making inquiries at certain points and laughing at the appropriate anecdotes. It was easy and pleasant in a way they rarely experienced together on weekdays. Finally Sebastian’s curiosity won out. Drinking the little wine remaining in his glass before setting it down, he posed the question he’d wanted to ask since arriving home.

“Babe,” he began, catching Kurt’s eyes as they met his and staring purposefully into them, “I know something’s up. You haven’t cooked on a Friday since summer, and I don’t remember a time that I ever saw you make anything with red meat. Care to tell me what the occasion is?”

Kurt drew a deeper than normal breath. He knew there was no more putting this part of the night off. Butterflies unlike any he ever felt before flooded his entire being, battering away at his insides with every fluttering beat of their wings. As Sebastian continued staring intently at him, Kurt reached his hand across the table, silently inviting his lover to take hold of it. Sebastian obliged, lacing their fingers together without removing his steady gaze. Another breath and Kurt began,

“Sebastian, I know that in the grand scheme of things we haven’t been together all that long, but you already know how deeply I’ve fallen in love with you. In spite of all our rough patches, especially since we started living together and began to form our own lives, at the end of every day I’m always glad that you’re the person I fall asleep next to.”

“Except for the nights one of us falls asleep on the couch,” Sebastian interjected in an amused tone.

Chuckling, Kurt conceded,

“Well, yes, except for those times. My point is that I love you more than I possess words to describe, and I can’t fathom a future that doesn’t include you… that doesn’t include us.”

Kurt shifted to remove the object in his pocket, and in those couple of seconds, realization dawned on Sebastian about what was likely to happen next.

Releasing Sebastian’s hand and standing, Kurt closed the short distance around the table, fist clenched around a small something. Dropping to one knee beside his boyfriend’s chair, Kurt looked up at the currently shell-shocked man whom he loved more than anything in the world.

“Sebastian Smythe,” he began, opening his hand and holding up a gold band whose gleaming metal reflected the flickering candlelight. Smiling uncontrollably and very near tears, Kurt continued, “Will you marry me?”

*****

**December 13, 2012**

Kurt blinked, eyelids leaden and head throbbing. Blindingly white light did his senses no favors as he waited for the world to stop spinning so that he might take stock of his surroundings. Mustering the strength to open his eyes fully, he could tell that he was lying in an unfamiliar room, although everything still appeared a little blurry around the edges. He attempted to brace himself on his right arm in order to push up into a sitting position, only to find the limb too heavy to maneuver with his considerably limited strength. Without even the wherewithal to panic, he simply felt bewildered and wondered vaguely when anything would start making some sense.

“Kurt?”

Confused though he might be, he recognized the sound of his dad’s voice. Sure enough, Burt swam into view, his expression a combination of concern and relief.

“Dad,” he croaked, voice hoarse from disuse, “where am I? What’s going on?”

“You took quite a fall, bud. Hit your head hard and broke your right arm, too.”

“When did I do that? Where am I?

Burt sighed,

“Two days ago, you’ve been out ever since. You’re in the hospital.”

He couldn’t remember this fall that his dad was talking about, but he guessed it made sense. At least that explained where he was.

“Where’s Carole? Is she on duty?”

Any relief in Burt’s features vanished, consumed entirely by the concern that previously scored only the edges of his face.

“Where do you think you are, kid?”

Much more alert than when he first came to, this seemed like a silly question to Kurt.

“Aren’t I in Lima? Or Westerville?”

Concern gave way completely to sadness as Burt shook his head.

“No, Kurt. You’re not.”


	2. Chapter 2

The four days following Kurt’s hospitalization oscillated between tolerably miserable and entirely unbearable on a minute-by-minute basis. Between the physical ache present in every inch of his body and the constant restlessness induced by desperately trying to reach into corners of his mind that now hid behind locked doors, nothing short of heavy sedatives could pull him down into sleep during the first two nights. Burt stood vigil at his bedside with the exception of bathroom breaks, phone calls and the inevitable need for food. Carole called at least three times every day for updates, always asking if they were both absolutely _sure_ she didn’t need to come up there, to which both men assured her that everything was being handled. Finn also offered to fly over, but Burt steadfastly forbade it. With only a few days of school at Ohio State and just a couple of final exams left, he insisted that Finn stick it out, promising that his stepson would see Kurt at Christmas.

Burt took great care not to push Kurt into remembering anything, at times going so far as refusing to answer some of the questions directed at him by his son. On the first day they agreed that it was better for Burt to sometimes simply deny Kurt answers, rather than lie to him. It broke the man’s heart to see his kid’s face fall whenever he responded to a question with a soft shake of his head, or helplessly watch free-flowing tears of frustration when the boy teetered on the precipice of a memory but couldn’t quite see over the cliff’s edge. Kurt’s anger and disappointment might ebb for brief moments, simmering rather than boiling, but for the most part these emotions appeared painfully clear in each word and expression.

From what he could piece together from conversations with his dad, he was missing everything starting somewhere in the summer after his junior year up through the day he awoke in the hospital. He couldn’t remember receiving an acceptance letter to the college of his dreams, his graduation, his first day in New York, anything about his classes, or even the new friends that Burt spent hours conversing with on Kurt’s phone, doling out updates and gently advising them not to visit. The whole scenario seemed entirely unreal. Here he was in New York with an entirely new life built for him, friends he couldn’t possibly have imagined meeting only five months previous and experiences that he probably never dreamed of; yet, he knew nothing about it.

Also on that first day, Burt provided Kurt with more details about the accident that landed him in this wretched situation.

“I ain’t gonna sugar coat this, bud. Obviously I wasn’t there, but what they told me is that a witness saw you come out of an apartment building, movin’ pretty quickly. Being winter and all, the couple a’ steps down to the sidewalk were really slick. You slipped, hit the concrete head first, and tumbled down the stairs- that’s how your arm broke.”

Kurt winced, which only served to stretch the skin on his scalp and cause the massive bruise to twinge. Phantom pains doubled on top of very real pain at the thought of such an incident and a plethora of new questions joined the hundreds already swamping his mind. Where was this apartment? Was he visiting someone? If so, who? Or did it happen outside his place? What was he doing that night to begin with? Why was he in such a hurry, especially since he must have known the stoop would be covered with ice? For the umpteenth time in 24 hours, he clawed uselessly at his head and cried, falling in to Burt’s warm embrace and being slowly rocked until a tentative calm finally took over his spent mind.

On the second day Kurt asked where in the city he lived. Obviously if he’d been in school he was living somewhere, which meant that a building existed where his things were stored. He probably even had a roommate or two out there. Burt swore to him that everything was being taken care of and that he shouldn’t worry about it. This did nothing to quell Kurt’s anxiety. What was going to happen when he was cleared to leave the hospital? He couldn’t possibly plunge right back in to a life he knew nothing about with people who would appear to him as strangers. These fears were verbalized through sobs and hiccups, with his dad’s soft voice explaining that he would be taking Kurt back to Ohio for awhile and that his possessions were being packed up by people he promised were the boy’s friends, even if he didn’t know them right now. He explained that, should Kurt feel up to it, his spot at NYADA would be waiting for him in September. Because this whole incident occurred right before finals, unfortunately his entire semester was essentially null and void, as he wouldn’t be able to pass any classes without taking the tests-- even if he could actually remember a scrap of the material. This news left him both grateful and disappointed. At least he had somewhere to go in the future, but it also meant that the last few months were a pointless waste of his time and money. Though, at this point, it felt like the last two years of his life were a nothing except waste of time.

On the morning of Kurt’s scheduled release, a nurse called Burt into the hallway, explaining that a man who wished to speak with him was waiting outside. As Kurt slowly ate breakfast, clumsy without the use of his right arm, the sound of raised voices filtered through the door. Though he couldn’t discern individual words, it was evident that one voice belonged to his dad. A few minutes later, Burt reappeared, a bit red in the face and carrying a duffel bag.

“Dad?” Kurt asked timidly, “Are you ok?”

Burt used a free hand to push up the brim of his baseball cap slightly and rub his eyes before answering.

“Yeah, kiddo. I’m fine.”

Doubtful of this answer, but knowing better than to risk pushing the matter, Kurt asked,

“Who was that?”

“Just one of your friends. He brought over some clothes and a few other things so that you can get ready for the plane ride.”

Still perplexed and caving in to curiosity, the boy continued his line of inquiry,

“I know you were yelling. I heard you. What was that about?”

Burt rubbed at his face more vigorously than before, clearly flustered as he wracked his brain for a suitable response. This definitely wasn’t an appropriate time for the whole truth to come out, but nor could he avoid providing an answer, and lying wouldn’t solve anything either.

“This guy used to be a very close friend of yours and he’s worried about you almost as much as I am. We’re both just angry and tired, so we kinda snapped and took it out on each other for a minute.” As much as he wanted to tack the words “everything is fine” on the end of his explanation, the older man knew they counted as a lie, so he bit back the hollow affirmation.

Knowing that his father probably wouldn’t answer, Kurt couldn’t help trying anyway. He proceeded to rush out the next words,

“Who was it? Maybe if you give me a name I’ll remem…”

Holding up one hand, Burt cut him off, shaking his head with eyes closed.

“Not today, kiddo. I’m sorry.”

Kurt sighed, unsurprised. Dutifully he accepted the bag handed to him, extracting the yoga pants, boxers, t-shirt and Dalton hoodie inside. The idea of going out in public like this made him cringe, but considering the trying day ahead of him combined with his general apathy towards everything right now, he wasn’t going to fight. Once Burt helped him seal his cast in plastic wrap, he slipped out of bed and went into the bathroom to shower and change before being discharged. Under the mercifully soothing spray of water, Kurt managed to find the one bright spot in his situation. If he couldn’t remember New York, at least Ohio might offer him the comfort of feeling like home. It was small consolation, all things considered, but it was a pinprick of light at the end of the long tunnel of this past week.

Kurt slowly dried off before struggling into clothes for the first time since being placed in the cumbersome cast. Without bothering to do more than run a comb quickly through his hair, he brushed his teeth and staunchly avoided looking in the mirror any longer than necessary. Upon reemerging his dad removed the wrapping, slipped socks onto Kurt’s feet and tied the laces of his drab, but comfortable, running shoes. After making sure they had all their belongings gathered up they went downstairs to sign out. Burt hailed a cab to take them to the airport, and the next few hours passed in relative silence. Before their flight the men bought a couple of sandwiches for lunch and picked up a magazine each at a shop near their gate. In the time between walking out the hospital doors in New York and arriving at Burt’s car in the parking garage of the Port Columbus International airport, they probably exchanged a total of 10 sentences, each of them lost in their own little worlds. The 2 ½ hour drive back to Lima wasn’t much more lively, the radio being the only noise breaking the quiet. At one point Burt asked if there was anything Kurt especially wanted for dinner, but the boy only continued staring listlessly out the window and muttered that he honestly didn’t care.

A few miles away from the house, Kurt nearly broke down again. As the streets of Lima wound around him, he realized that, other than his father’s face, these were the first recognizable things he’d set eyes on in almost a week. He took a muted form of solace in this, accepting the brief reprieve from the anguish of unfamiliarity he suffered while in the city. Suddenly his heart felt heavy with longing to be home, to see Carole, even though in his memory she’d only been part of the family for about a year, to sleep in his own bed, to surround himself with the past that he _knew_. Even though he was aware that the relief would be a temporary, superficial band-aid covering what amounted to a gaping wound, he refused to deny himself the pleasure of one night to relish a sense of normality before the storm lurking just around the corner crashed full force upon him.

About 15 minutes away from the house, Kurt finally spoke up.

“Is Carole home?”

Visibly startled by the unexpected conversation, Burt recovered enough to answer,

“Uh, no, she had to work tonight. Probably won’t be home before you fall asleep. But she’ll be around tomorrow while I’m at the shop, so she’s all yours.” He paused before continuing,

“I figured when we’re all together tomorrow we’ll talk about… about what to do next.”

“Oh. Ok.”

Silence reigned for another couple of minutes before Burt piped back up.

“You left a lot here when you moved, and we haven’t turned your room into an office or anything, so you’ll have some clothes and books and things.”

Kurt considered this.

“When is my stuff from New York going to arrive?”

He noticed his dad stiffen slightly.

“I think it’s getting shipped in the morning, so I dunno, two days?”

There was another pregnant pause.

“Look, Kurt, I think when it all gets here you shouldn’t, uh, well, it might not be the best idea to open everything up right away. Just in case it’s too much at once, ya know?”

Kurt nodded, figuring that would be the case. In all honesty he wasn’t sure he’d be ready to face that situation so soon, anyway. Burt’s words caused him to consider another possibility, and though he posed it as a question, it’s came out sounding more like a statement.

“You asked Carole to go through my room and take out anything I added after my junior year, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. I did. But we didn’t get rid of anything, it’s all just waiting in boxes, for when you’re ready.” Burt shifted somewhat guiltily at the admission, but Kurt understood that his parents were only trying to do what was best.

“Thank you,” he murmured, “I appreciate that.”

Soon enough they pulled into the Hummel-Hudson driveway and walked their limited luggage to the front door. Kurt half expected begin weeping as soon as he saw the well-trod hallway and inhaled the soothing smells of his childhood. To his surprise, all he felt was contentment, and he decided to allow himself to be wrapped up in the warm blanket of that moment until morning.

Before leaving for work Carole prepared one of Kurt’s favorite pasta dishes and left it in the fridge to be reheated when they returned. Kurt didn’t even bother to go downstairs to his room before sitting down to wait for dinner, realizing that he was hungrier than he thought during the drive home. Within 30 minutes both men were pleasantly full and Burt was cleaning up dishes. Still not having made a move towards his old room, Kurt sat silently sipping the last of the water in his glass.

“So, kiddo, do you wanna watch a movie or something? I think Carole has a copy of your favorite… what’s it called? Moola Rogue?”

For the first time in what felt like eons, Kurt smiled and released a genuine laugh, which Burt gladly returned, overjoyed to finally see his son relaxed again.

“It’s ‘Moulin Rouge,’ dad. And thanks, but I’m wiped. I think I’m just gonna go to bed. Been a long week.”

Still smiling, Burt nodded, moving forward to hug the boy.

“Alright, son. You get some rest. And take it easy tomorrow. You and Carole can bake cookies and watch, uh, whatever it is you guys like to watch on TV all day.” He turned his face to kiss the top of Kurt’s head before releasing him.

“Thanks, dad. For everything. Goodnight.”  
“No problem. G’night, Kurt.”

Kurt flashed one more small smile before turning to walk the familiar path down to his bedroom. He took a deep breath before opening the door and flicking the light switch. Walking inside and closing the door behind him, he cast a long look around the room. In many ways it was exactly as he remembered. Most of the same pictures and knickknacks appeared to be right where he last saw them, although there were noticeable gaps on some of the shelves that he would never deliberately leave there. Those must be the places where Carole pulled something off and delegated it to a box. The thought occurred to him to go looking for these boxes, but he knew that even if he found them the results would do him more harm than good right now.

Sighing, he opened the dresser drawer that he hoped still contained at least one set of pajamas. Finding that it did, he went through the slow process of awkwardly maneuvering out of his clothes and into the worn, flannel PJs. The closer he drew to success, the heavier his eyelids became as the full weight of his exhaustion settled in. Having already forgone proper skin care for five days, he figured that one more night wasn’t going to make much of a difference. With the lights off the moon shone through a small window near the ceiling, leaving just enough glow on the floor to see him safely to the double bed. Once under the cool covers and arranged in a position that allowed the cast to rest comfortably at his side, Kurt closed his eyes, slipping quickly into a deep, dreamless sleep, the likes of which he had begun to doubt he would ever experience again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't go getting used to this quick posting business. I just happened to have a lot of spare time the last couple of days. I outlined quite a bit today, and this sucker is turning out to be A LOT more involved than I originally thought. Stay with me for awhile longer- I promise Blaine will show up and Sebastian will return. It just might be a couple of chapters before that happens...


	3. Chapter 3

Sunlight danced across Kurt’s face as he slowly roused from a blissfully restful sleep. Blinking, he turned to look blearily at the alarm clock beside his bed, which informed him that it was almost noon. He took his time stretching each limb, enjoying that lazy expanse of time between opening his eyes and reaching full consciousness. For a few precious moments he completely forgot that he shouldn’t be here, temporarily believing that this was an ordinary weekend visiting home from Dalton. As he attempted to extend his right arm, the illusion shattered, jarring him unceremoniously back to reality. All at once he recalled the circumstances leading him to this moment. Images of the hospital, snippets of conversation with his dad, gallons of tears escaping his eyes- everything crashed back to him simultaneously.

Unfortunately, nothing returned in that moment which might allow him any insight to the parts of his life that remained unknown.

His pleasant contentment utterly ruined, Kurt released a resigned sigh and began the slow process of extracting himself from the warm sheets in order to find clothes before heading upstairs. Knowing full well that he wouldn’t be leaving the house that day, he didn’t bother opening the closet, instead going straight for the dresser in search of sweatpants and a t-shirt. After successfully wriggling into the comfortable clothing he trudged up the stairs, mentally preparing to greet Carole. The problem was not that he didn’t want to see her; the issue was facing yet another person who knew more about his life than he did. When it was just his dad this idea didn’t bother him nearly as much, but adding more people to the mix just served as a reminder that everyone knew more than him. Tamping down a new found level of frustration, Kurt headed into the kitchen to find his step-mom seated in the breakfast nook, a mug of coffee beside her and newspaper in hand. Given her disheveled appearance and worn terrycloth robe, it appeared that she hadn’t been awake for too long, either.

Her head turned when she heard footsteps padding along the linoleum floor, smile radiating on her face as she set down the paper and sprung up to meet Kurt next to the coffee pot. Without warning she crushed him in to a hug the likes of which he could only remember receiving from her once before, after the wedding. Then again, there was two years worth of embraces missing from his timeline, so his judgment left much to be desired. Despite his melancholy, he grinned against her neck during the abnormally long hug, focusing on being grateful for the company of someone who obviously cared about him. When they finally pulled apart Carole’s eyes were misty with barely restrained tears, but happiness and relief shone brightly in her expression as she exclaimed,

“Kurt, honey, it’s so good to see you!”

Unable to stifle it, Kurt let out a dry chuckle,

“You, too, Carole. Though I can’t say I’m overjoyed about the circumstances.”

Rather than disappearing entirely, her smile merely faded into one holding trace amounts of sadness. She nodded understandingly while reaching out to pat Kurt’s shoulder.

“Fair enough. Now, I know you wouldn’t deny me the pleasure of cooking you an entirely unhealthy breakfast meant mostly to feed your soul. Pancakes with warm blueberry compote and whipped cream?”

Catching her infections enthusiasm, Kurt burst into a genuine grin. She truly was the best step-mom he could ask for.

“Compromise with whole wheat pancakes and we have a deal.”

Carole took a moment to exaggeratedly consider this proposition, pursed lips and all, before countering,

“You get your healthy wheat if I can cancel it out with two slices of bacon. Your move, sir.”

Kurt’s hand flew to his heart, a mask of mock horror covering his face.

“Carole!” he admonished, “After everything we discussed about dad’s diet, you’re keeping bacon in the house?”

“Well, Finn will be here in a few days, and it’s almost Christmas” she attempted to defend herself, “now quit deflecting. Do we have an agreement or not?”

Without hesitation the boy shot back,

“One scrambled egg instead of bacon.”

“One scrambled egg with cheddar cheese on top,” she insisted.

“One scrambled egg with skim mozzarella cheese.”

“One scrambled egg with skim mozzarella cheese, two whole wheat pancakes topped with warm blueberry compote and whipped cream, plus I get to put a few chocolate chips in the batter. That’s my final offer, young man.”

Laughing, Kurt stuck out his hand to shake hers.

“You drive a hard bargain, lady, but I accept your terms.”

Triumphantly she set about gathering supplies and busying herself with preparing the meal. Still highly amused, Kurt poured a cup of coffee, carefully adding the requisite amounts of milk and sugar to make the rejuvenating liquid consumable. Once seated at the kitchen table he stared wordlessly into space, allowing his mind a minute to decide what kind of conversation to strike up. Without the contents of the mug before him coursing through his system, anything too serious was ill advised. Still, it wasn’t as if he were home for Winter break, bursting with stories about his first semester of college; he was limited to either reminiscing or asking about Carole’s life. With a jolt of distress Kurt realized that even the latter counted as encroaching on dangerous territory. He wouldn’t just be asking how she’d been since he moved, but about how the last two years had treated her.

As this realization dawned the accompanying dismay appeared evident on his face, because at that moment Carole turned to face him, a question about cheese quantity dying immediately on her lips.

“Honey, what is it?”

Kurt shook his head, not in dismissal, but in defeat. He was at a loss.

“I just… I want to talk to you, but I don’t know what to talk about. There’s nothing I can tell you that you don’t already know and I don’t think I’m awake enough right now to start hearing you tell me about the last couple years of your life. So I… I don’t know.”

Carole considered this before responding,

“Come over here and keep an eye on the compote. I’ll be back in two minutes.”

Curious, Kurt complied, standing by the stove and stirring the bubbling, sugary fruit concoction. Shortly after disappearing she returned, carrying a stack of magazines. She plopped the lot down on the table and as his eyes widened, so did her smile.

“Here you go. Every copy of Vogue from July 2011-July 2012. And when the rest of your stuff arrives you’ll be able to get fully caught up.”

Beaming with eyes watering, Kurt lurched forward for his second hug of the morning. This was exactly what he needed right now. The volumes probably wouldn’t be so over stimulating as to trigger an unmanageable flood of memory, but they would help fill in some gaps and also keep him entertained for quite awhile. Pulling back he wiped the moisture off his face and spewed a litany of grateful statements. Carole waved him off, continuing to cook and saying that it was the least she could do.

“I know you had them arranged in chronological order, but they got shuffled a bit when I stored them, so I’m sorry about that.”

Kurt reached for the magazine at the top of the pile, about to open it when Carole spoke again,

“Ok, before I lose you completely to the world of high end fashion for a few hours, we do need to talk about the rest of the day.”

Perplexed, he looked up at her.

“Huh? I mean, yeah, sure, what is there to discuss?”

Her eyes twinkled somewhat mischievously.

“I promised your dad that I would oversee your well being today, instructions including, but not limited to, watching at least one movie, baking no less than two kinds of cookies and allowing you to discard one item of his clothing, excluding baseball caps.”

Gaping, Kurt began to speak,

“That seems like…”

“And,” Carole cut him off, “I am recognized as being at full liberty to force-feed you the entire cheesecake currently residing in the fridge should you become overly moody at any point.”

He gasped.

“You wouldn’t.”

She cast him a wicked smirk.

“Oh, just watch me.”

There was a second of tense silence before both of them burst into giggles, forcing Carole to put down the pancake spatula and brace herself against the counter.

“But seriously,” Kurt rasped, still giggling and choking for lack of oxygen, “no offense, Carole, but unless all of that is in writing, I may choose to not acknowledge some of those stipulations.”

She swiftly produced a folded piece of paper from the pocket of her robe and passed it to him. Upon opening up the document, Kurt found her words printed in his dad’s handwriting, almost verbatim. At the bottom was both of their signatures and a little note from Burt:

Sorry kid, I know you too well. Figured I’d take some precautions. Be good!  
Love, Dad

“Unbelievable,” he muttered.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me that you can’t see the appeal in an outright directive to throw out something flannel,” Carole cajoled as she placed breakfast in front of him. It smelled heavenly and Kurt batted away the habit to mentally tabulate the calories, digging in to the pancakes as though he hadn’t eaten in days.

“Ok, you win. Moulin Rouge first, then going into battle with dad’s closet before drowning my despair in snickerdoodles and peanut butter cookies?”

She retrieved her newspaper and joined him at the table.

“I can’t wait. Now eat up. You’ll need that sugar buzz to survive sifting through Burt’s criminal fashion choices.”

*****

Given his late start, to Kurt it seemed that the afternoon passed too quickly. Singing along with the movie left him feeling delightfully lighthearted, especially with Carole’s slightly off-key voice desperately attempting to harmonize beside him and serving as a point of endless humor for them both. At the end of the film they traipsed upstairs to the master bedroom, prepared to face the worst. Kurt immediately located the flannel button up shirt that had long since mocked him whenever Burt wore it. Blue, orange and green, with more holes and shifty looking stains than should be allowed to see the light of day, Kurt didn’t even think it worthy of a humble burial at the bottom of their trash can.

“Can we burn it? Please? I promise I’ll clean out the fireplace later,” he entreated.

Carole laughed briefly.

“How about you give it to me for now? I promise he won’t find it and we’ll dispose of it properly when the time is right.”

Kurt reluctantly handed over the ragged fabric, watching as Carole buried the shirt in a drawer. With the clothing successfully covered by her collection of socks, she turned to him,

“So, I believe cookies were next on the to-do list?”

Two hours later Kurt once again sat in the kitchen, the time between removing and replacing cookie sheets in the oven spent happily flipping through Vogue. Meanwhile, Carole buried herself in a nondescript romance novel and the two enjoyed a companionable silence. Kurt flipped a page in the March 2012 issue and froze, his brain seized by an unexpected memory.

_“Oh. My. God.”_

_Kurt’s screeching outburst disturbed the quiet in his shared dorm, startling his roommate attempting to study on the other side._

_“Kurt, seriously,” Nick exclaimed, tossing his book aside in frustration, “we talked about this. I understand your ‘passion for fashion,’ but it scares the shit out of me when you come out of nowhere like that.”_

_Leaping from his seated position, Kurt strode across the minimal distance between them and shoved the magazine in Nick’s face._

_“A floral print shirt paired with a plaid skirt. FLORAL AND PLAID, Nick! Don’t even get me started on the color combinations,” Kurt fumed. “I have never been this disappointed in Vogue’s editors.”_

As suddenly as it crept upon him, the moment passed. Carole obviously noticed, her eyes peering over the top of her book, a questioning gaze directly aimed at him.

“You remembered something,” she stated simply.

“Um, yeah,” Kurt’s voice shook, “but I mean, it wasn’t anything big. Just a stupid little thing.” He relayed the brief recollection and to his surprise, Carole beamed.

“It might seem minor, but this means that everything is still there in your head, no matter how deeply buried. You can get it all back, Kurt.”

He smiled weakly. At that moment they heard the front door open, signaling Burt’s return. Though he knew that a talk about the future would be happening tonight, Kurt still had no idea what to contribute to the discussion. This promised to be an uncomfortable evening for everyone involved, but reflecting on his days with Burt while stuck in the hospital and the wonderful hours just spent with Carole, Kurt knew that he had the best possible support group surrounding him. While the next few months were likely to be anything but easy, at least he knew that being alone would be the least of his worries.

*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know these first three have been short bits. The plan is to start hitting around 3,000+ words per chapter from here on out. But keep in mind that we still have to work through "the talk," Finn being home, and what Kurt decides to do after his time in Ohio before we get to Blaine or Sebastian.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The "where do we go from here?" conversation between Kurt, Burt and Carole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a short little chapter to get you (and, who am I trying to fool? myself, as well) back into the story. It took a year but I'm freshly inspired to come back to it. No guarantees on update frequencies, and no promises that I won't fall off the map again for awhile, so if you're still sticking with me I love you for it. Some day I really do want to finish this one, as it's the most complex and fully developed in my head of anything I've taken a stab at. That said, let the journey continue!

Having pled with Carole for a dinner involving white meat and some kind of leafy greens, Kurt was pleased when the he found himself at a table laden with salad and fish. Conversation was light and pleasant as Burt discussed his day at the garage and the other two recounted their activities. Carole brought up Kurt’s short recollection inspired by the issue of Vogue and his father’s smile was bright, though quickly morphed into a playful grimace.

“Alright, lay it on me, kiddo— what shirt do I not own now?” 

“Oh, take a guess,” Kurt responded, grinning.

“Is it blue, orange, green, flannel and my favorite?”

Kurt’s smile widened, no feeling of guilt or remorse evident.

“See? At least you were prepared for the inevitable.”

Burt shook his head with amusement.

“Point taken, but if I suffer from any separation anxiety, it’s on you.”

The atmosphere in the room tensed immediately as Burt recognized the careless choice of phrasing. Though not quite the right term for what he was feeling, anxiety about the drastic separation from his life was essentially Kurt’s permanent state these days. Within seconds his father started,

“Kurt, I’m sorry, that was—”

“Dad, it’s fine,” Kurt cut him off, “if anything I’m going to be more upset if you treat me with kid gloves all the time.” He took a deep breath. “I know you can only treat me so much like ‘normal,’ but if you start censoring everything even more than you have to already, I’ll probably only withdraw more and,” he took another shaky inhale, “and that’ll only make things worse.”

Feeling the fortitude he built up during his day with Carole beginning to crumble, Kurt pushed back his chair to stand and begin clearing the table. As he clumsily fumbled a plate with his left hand Carole rested hers atop it, gently taking it from him and continuing the job. Before Kurt could stand helplessly for too long, she said,

“Kurt? Why don’t you make a plate of cookies to take to the living room? I’ll bring it out when I finish in here.”

He nodded silently, grateful for the perceptive woman beside him. Kurt had been home 24 hours and already he knew that she would be vital to his ability to get through the coming days with any sanity intact.

Burt moved to settle on the couch while his wife and son finished up in the kitchen. The only sounds in the house for the next five minutes were the delicate clatter of dishes and shuffling of feet. Kurt carefully arranged a tray of cookies, taking care to place each one and creating a pleasing display. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but this simple task seemed to be the most important job in the world at that moment. Meaningless though it might be, it was something to focus on, something buffering him from the swiftly approaching moment when the three of them would be seated on the couch and discussing a future that seemed so impossible to him.

Finally the trio was comfortably arranged in the living room, munching on cookies in silence until Burt took it on himself to start what promised to be a taxing conversation.

“I gotta admit, Kurt, even with everything all the doctors told me this week, I don’t know what the right thing to do here is.”

As much as he hoped that his dad would magically have all the answers like he always did when Kurt was growing up, the 18 year old knew that his father wasn’t that kind of superhero. Though relatively new to adulthood, Kurt recognized that, while parents always seem to know what they’re doing and capable of fixing everything, at the end of the day no one could really be that all-knowing. It was an illusion of childhood that he’d abandoned when his mom died and he learned that there are some things you just can’t fix with a hug or a warning. Still, he held out hope for some guidance and learning that they would all be starting at square one was a little disappointing, if not unexpected.

“I didn’t really expect you to,” Kurt started, “but I’m so deep in my head all I can see is what I can’t do. I can’t go back to New York, I can’t go to school, I can’t be with my friends because I don’t even know who my friends are…” His voice cracked and he felt the familiar, all-consuming despair begin to fall over him.

Burt rose and sat beside his son, lightly putting an arm around his still aching shoulders in the best display of comfort he could come up with.

“Hey, I know that’s what it feels like now, and I’m sorry I don’t know how to make everything ok right away, but I can give you perspective.” He paused before continuing, “You can do all of those things, and I don’t doubt you will, no matter what does or doesn’t come back to you. I won’t pretend like I can really understand how overwhelmed and terrified I know you are,”

Kurt opened his mouth to protest, but Burt went on,

“Don’t you try tellin’ me you’re fine. I know you’re a tough one, bud, but right now I’d be more worried if you weren’t scared.”

Kurt nodded, allowing the first tear of the evening to slide down his cheek.

“How about this? Christmas is in a week and Finn’ll be home in a couple of days. After the holiday we’ll look at getting you into some kind of therapy and go from there.”

“But, what about after that? What am I going to do about school and wherever I was living and all those people I—”

“Kid, I know it’s easier said than done, but you gotta not let yourself worry too much about stuff that far down the line.”

Kurt pouted.

“You’re the one who always told me how important it is to plan,” he pointed out with bitterness in his voice.

“Yeah, and it is, but right now you’re gettin’ a life lesson,” Burt looked directly into Kurt’s eyes, “there are some things you just can’t plan for. All you can do is regroup and try again. How about,” Burt gave an encouraging smile, “let’s plan on keepin’ going like you did today with Carole and agree that that’s plan enough for right now.”

Kurt wiped away the few stray tears that escaped and managed a watery smile,

“As long as there’s less fat and sugar involved, I think I’m okay with that.” 

“Good,” his father stated with a warm tone of finality before standing up, “now, I don’t know ‘bout you, but I want to plant myself in front of a movie with the rest of these cookies and slip into nice coma for the rest of the night.” He cast a cautious look at Kurt, clearly searching for approval of his little joke. Kurt responded with a short giggle,

“Depending on the movie you make me sit through I might wish for that coma, myself.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's one more chapter before this story officially spans through 2013, 2014 and 2015.   
> A toast to everyone looking to ring in the new year in the same fashion as me-- with cheap sparkling wine and my laptop. After this last year, I feel no regret about starting this one with a little peace and productivity.

December 22, 2012

“Hey, Kurt, come in here,” Burt called from the kitchen. Kurt was in his room reading one of the books from his shelf at the time but moved swiftly upstairs, curious what his father might have to say.

Burt sat at the kitchen table, newspaper and mug of coffee in front of him. Kurt appeared in the doorway and sent him a questioning look.

“Yeah, dad?”

“Well, first off I wanna apologize for all the restrictions I’ve been puttin’ on you this week. I know it’s gotta be driving you nuts not knowin’ anything about, well, you and I don’t like lying to you.”

“I don’t believe that you’re lying to me about anything.”

Burt smiled and continued,

“And I appreciate that, but lying by omission is still lying and I really hate doin’ it.”

Kurt nodded, knowing his dad was right but that his intentions were good.

“I know I can’t protect you forever. I accepted that a long time ago. Honestly, I’ve been havin’ a hard time deciding how to handle this…”

He trailed off and Kurt’s heart clenched painfully at the lost look in Burt’s eyes. He hated putting it there and, no matter how frustrated he became whenever information was denied him, he knew that in some ways this situation was just as hard on his dad.

Before Kurt could speak, Burt picked up his train thought,

“And keepin’ you from your friends is probably the hardest part,” he gave a snort, amusement creeping back into his features, “in more ways than one. You mind tellin’ me when you got so damn popular?”

Choosing to keep the newly retrieved light mood, Kurt laughed out,

“As soon as I actually know, you’ll be the first man I come to.” 

The laughter died and he added,

“I know why you are, though. And you’re probably right. I’ve only been awake a week and too much too soon, you know?”

“Mhmm,” Burt murmured through pursed lips, “so I guess that means I should call Jeff and Nick back and tell them not to come over today?”

“WHAT?” Kurt screeched, unable to contain his surprise and excitement.

Jeff and Nick were Kurt’s best friends in high school, along with Sebastian. In the last few days he thought of the trio often, wondering and hoping that their friendship survived into the first year of college. He’d already learned to give up quickly whenever he tried to bully information out of his dad or Carole, but more than almost anything he yearned to know if they were all still friends. Realizing that he didn’t even know where any of them were was soul crushing.

But now they were coming to see him! Faces he knew and missed so much and they would be here, in his house and…

They would be here. In his house.

“Ohmygod!” Kurt shrieked, hand flying to his hair and casting a disapproving look down his body, “when are they coming? How long do I have? Oh crap I haven’t even showered in two days…”

Burt allowed his son to babble for a few more seconds, smirking at this predictable reaction before answering,

“They’ll be here in a little over an hour, so you should have just enough time to make yourself presentable.”

“It does NOT take me an hour to get ready, thank you,” Kurt huffed, secretly grateful for the extra time but absolutely unwilling to admit it.

“Whatever you say, kiddo. Just don’t forget to wrap your cast while you panic over whether those pants will go with that tie, or whatever it is you think about.”

*****

An hour later Kurt was pacing across the living room carpet, incapable of sitting down. He’d spent so much time recently feeling restless for negative reasons that he was enjoying this giddier version of the same problem.

As soon as the doorbell rang he ran for the front door, his left hand slipping on the handle in his haste to open it. The sight of two of his best friends standing in front of him almost made him burst into tears.

No sooner had he opened the door than he found himself with an armful of Jeff. He yelped in pain as the lanky blonde’s arms dug into his still-tender back muscles, causing Jeff to leap back immediately with horror on his face.

“Shit! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have, I mean, I just got…”

“Jeff, Jeff, calm down. I just took some ibuprofen, I’ll be fine.” He smiled through the pain searing across his back. “I’d rather you not do it again, though.”

“No, no, of course!” he exclaimed.

“I think what Jeff meant,” Nick piped up, “was to say ‘hi, Kurt. We’re so happy to see you.”

Nick opted for a comforting squeeze to Kurt’s left bicep before they moved into the living room. No words were exchanged as the two guests settled in and Kurt bustled about getting them all something to drink. Once they were comfortable they looked around at each other, no one quite sure what to say first. Jeff eventually broke the ice.

“So. This is weird, isn’t it?”

The boys laughed, easing the tension considerably. This was indeed a weird experience and there wasn’t any point in denying it.

“Yeah, it is. I’m sorry. But I’m still so glad you’re here,” Kurt said, eager to assure them that this wasn’t an unwanted visit. “I’m assuming my dad told you everything about… about my memory and all that?”

Nick and Jeff made confirming noises.

“He did. He also said that if you’re gonna get mad at anyone for us not talking to you sooner, it should be him,” said Jeff.

“Honestly I don’t know how he’s managed to keep people away. A couple of people lost their minds with envy when they found out we’d get to see you,” Nick added. “I heard that Mercedes threatened to sit outside your house the entire time she was in Ohio to visit her family. Burt finally talked her down, though.”

Kurt remembered his dad’s words from earlier about him being popular. Even in the days when the bullying was worst he still always managed to make friends, but the idea that a significant amount of people existed who were so concerned about him was almost unfathomable. Then the bit about Mercedes sunk in and he felt a bubble of resentment rise at the fact that his dad deliberately kept them apart, because he could really use the company of his best girl. Regardless, Jeff and Nick were here now and it wasn’t the time to think about that.

“Wow. I never would have guessed that many people cared.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself, Kurt. You were always an amazing person, but you kept— keep —getting better. Once you gained enough self-confidence more people finally started to see what the rest of us already saw,” Nick said.

Kurt felt his lower lip wobble and recognized the oncoming bout of tears. Too many emotions swarmed him, so he went for the easiest conversation topic he could think of by means of distraction.

“Thanks.” He cleared his throat. “Ok, well, history is a mostly blank slate for me for the last year and a half. So you both get another opportunity to gloat about Warbler solos, college acceptances and any romantic encounters all over again.”

Jeff took the bait, immediately launching into a lengthy account of his acceptance to Juilliard dance program and waxing romantic about how amazing it was. Nick eventually cut him off to talk about studying film at NYU and his latest project. Kurt listened attentively, steadfastly ignoring the pang of sadness that he had nothing to contribute other than questions. It did not go unnoticed by him that both boys pointedly ignored saying anything about where they lived or general life in New York. When the steady flow of conversation naturally slowed, Kurt asked the one thing he really wanted to know.

“So if you’re both in New York, I mean, we still hang out sometimes, right?”

Nick and Jeff shifted uncomfortably, clearly indicating that they expected this and knew there was no avoiding answering.

“Our schedules are all very different but, yeah, we’re still close,” Nick answered cautiously.

“Of course we do!” Jeff spoke emphatically over Nick, “At least once or twice a month we come over to your’s and Seba—”

Nick violently jabbed Jeff in the ribcage with his elbow, effectively silencing the blonde. But the damage was already done.

“Wait. Sebastian? I lived with Sebastian?”

“Uh, yeah,” Nick said softly, running his fingers nervously through his hair.

Judging by the intensely uncomfortable looks on his friend’s faces, Kurt deduced that this wasn’t meant to be only a pleasant social visit.

“What are you two actually here to tell me?”

Nick sighed and looked over at Jeff who threw up his hands in a sign of innocence.

“Don’t look at me. I think I already proved how bad I am at this.”

This time Nick groaned and scrubbed both hands across his face, collecting his thoughts before looking back up at an increasingly anxious Kurt.

“Alright, your dad actually asked us to be the ones to tell you that, er, you and Sebastian were—”

“Dating,” Jeff blurted, “since senior year.”

“Thanks, Jeff,” Nick muttered, sending the boy a murderous look.

All Kurt could say was, “what?” As he tried to process this information a million questions raced through his head. How could his dad have kept that from him?

“DAD,” he roared, confident that Burt would hear him.

Sure enough, a few moments later Burt appeared in the doorway connecting the living room and hallway, rubbing the back of his neck and looking sheepish.

“So they told you, huh?”

Kurt jumped up from his seat and began pacing furiously, unsure what to do with his body but unable to remain still.

“I get why you would put off telling me about any boyfriend I had, but how could you not tell me it was Sebastian? He’s been my best friend for years! I know it’d be hard for him because I can’t remember anything about us being together, but he wouldn’t try to take advantage of me or anything. He must have tried to contact me. How many times have you turned him away? Why won’t you let me talk to him?”

Kurt ranted like this a minute more, the other three in the room quietly waiting for him to run out of steam. Finally Kurt collapsed back into an armchair and cradled his head with his hand, as though there were so many thoughts in there that they’d spill out if he didn’t physically contain them. Burt moved to place a hand on his son’s shoulder and, despite his outrage, Kurt leaned into the touch. He knew, logically, that there was likely a very good reason why he was being kept from Sebastian. However, recognizing this only caused the fear in the pit of his stomach to grow.

“Please,” Kurt half-whispered, “what’s going on?”

Burt sighed heavily, hating himself for the fact that he was about to further be part of his little boy’s heartbreak.

“You’re right, Kurt. He did try to contact you. In fact he was there almost all of the two days you were out. When you woke up he’d actually just left to go home for a few hours. I called to tell him you were awake and suffered serious memory loss and suggested that maybe he wait until morning to come back, just to give you a little time to adjust to what happened…”

He trailed off and Kurt’s stomach dropped further.

“...but he didn’t come back,” Kurt finished.

Burt nodded, continuing,

“He did, though. That day you heard fighting in the hallway. He came to drop off a bag for you and when I asked him to come in, he refused. He started spouting off some nonsense about figuring that he might as well forget about you, too and I, er, lost my cool. Told him if he loved you he’d man up and do whatever he needed to keep you, whether your memory ever came back or not. That’s when he left.”

Kurt’s mouth hung open. He didn’t want to believe it, but one glance at Nick and Jeff told him that what his father said was true. Sebastian just… left him.

“Maybe,” he manage to croak, “maybe if I try contacting him, maybe he’ll—”

“That’s the problem, Kurt,” Nick said gently, “no one has been able to get a hold of him since the day you left the hospital.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter we finally find out how Sebastian is (or isn't) dealing with this whole situation.


	6. Chapter 6

December 11, 2012

After a few minutes of holding one another and sharing kisses tinged with salty tears, Sebastian and Kurt pull apart. Of course Sebastian said yes. Really, Kurt had only beat him to a proposal by a matter of days. Sebastian went into their bedroom to retrieve the ring he purchased for his boyfriend-turned-fiancé the week prior. Kurt began crying all over again as Sebastian slid the ring onto his finger. When he finally composed himself and wiped his eyes he insisted on running to the shop down the block to buy them a bottle of quality sparkling wine to celebrate, chastising himself for not doing so earlier. Secretly he’d been terrified that Sebastian would turn him down and the thought of the bottle sitting unopened afterward was unbearable. 

“Don’t go, we don’t need it. And I feel like newly-engaged sex is a necessity right now,” Sebastian pleaded, anxious to get this beautiful man naked and underneath him.

Kurt chuckled and leaned in for a sweet kiss.

“Plenty of time for that soon. I want to celebrate properly, though.”

“So do I,” Sebastian shot back with a sexy smile.

Kurt kissed him again and set about making himself presentable and bundling on layers in preparation for the biting cold awaiting him outside. Luckily the store was only a five minute walk away. When he was ready to set out, Sebastian tried to corner him and prevent the departure. With a swift side-step he evaded the attempt, smiling playfully and opening the door.

“I’ll be back in 15 minutes, tops.”

“Wouldn’t you rather stay here and top me?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Kurt laughed. “Seriously, I’ll be right back.”

Sebastian pouted but conceded.

“I’ll be here,” he said, “always.”

Before he could start sobbing again Kurt pecked Sebastian’s cheek and closed the door behind him. Sebastian sighed happily, content in a way he didn’t know was possible. He moved into their bedroom, fully intent on being naked and in bed when Kurt returned.

He hadn’t so much as removed his shirt when he heard raised voices on the street. While living in the city this wasn’t exactly unusual, but these voices were loud and panicked, sounding as though they were coming from right outside. Curiosity won out and he returned to the living room to peer out the window. People were crowded right outside the door to their building, one woman with a phone to her ear and another crouched down beside what appeared to be an unmoving someone lying on the ground. Kurt was not among those standing and surely he wouldn’t have gotten far enough that fast to not have seen what happened. Unless…

Sebastian’s stomach plummeted and he flew out the door with even putting on shoes. He prayed that he was overreacting and would feel silly about this response in a matter of seconds, once he saw that Kurt wasn’t down on the pavement. The sight he met outside the building only served to confirm his worst fears.

His Kurt, his beautiful, precious Kurt was a tangled mess on the ground at the base of their stoop. A small pool of blood seeped from his head and his right arm stuck out an unnatural angle. His eyes were closed and he wasn’t moving.

“KURT,” Sebastian screamed, shoving aside a concerned looking woman and moving fast to get to the place where Kurt lay. His first instinct was to grab the man and cradle him close, but luckily he had the presence of mind to remember just how bad an idea that would be. He looked around helplessly at the small crowd gathered around him.

“What happened? Did someone call an ambulance? Did anyone see it?”

“I called as soon as I saw him fall,” a middle-aged woman spoke up. “He was moving pretty fast and he must have slipped because he just went down.”

“Oh god, oh god” Sebastian murmured to himself over and over. If an ambulance was coming there was literally nothing else he could do. He spied Kurt’s phone lying about a foot away and made a grab for it. Even though he knew the hospital would do it, one thing he could do was call Burt Hummel.

He didn’t know how he managed to put together sentences to explain what was going on, but promises Burt that he won’t leave his son’s side until he can get to the city. If Burt is panicking, and Sebastian is certain that he is, his level tone hides it well. He assures Sebastian that he’ll be on the next flight and asks him to call with any news. Sebastian agrees and hangs up, going further out of his mind with worry with every second the ambulance doesn’t arrive. All he can do is sit next to Kurt, barely feeling the cold despite his lack of proper clothing, and see that he’s still breathing.

When the paramedics do show up, one calms him down enough to encourage him to go inside to grab shoes, a coat and his phone. When Sebastian explains that Kurt is his fiancé and that he is closest thing to a family member that lives nearby, they allow him to join the journey to the hospital.

The hours that follow are a hell the likes of which Sebastian could never imagine. A doctor updated him on Kurt’s condition but it was hours before he was allowed to see him. When he finally does he doesn’t try to hold back his emotions. He holds Kurt’s undamaged hand and cries. He goes through every unpleasant emotion on the spectrum but settles primarily on anger. He can’t even pinpoint one thing in particular to be angry at, other than how unfair everything is.

When Burt arrived in the early morning and Kurt still wasn’t awake. The cycle of emotions began again and Sebastian was just grateful not to be alone; he wouldn’t be able to handle it. There’s nothing he can tell Burt that Burt hasn’t already heard from the doctor, since Sebastian didn’t see the accident and had already recounted the witness’ story. Mostly they sit in silence and before Sebastian knows it he’s been at the hospital for almost 24 hours without leaving. He’s exhausted and hungry, even though Burt had eventually gotten food for them. Burt tried to get him to go home and get some sleep, but Sebastian stubbornly refused. He knew that at some point he’d have to go for at least a little while but didn’t want to risk missing Kurt’s return to consciousness.

But after one more night of restless snoozing at Kurt’s bedside and no change in condition, Sebastian caved and reluctantly agreed to, at the very least, go take a shower and change. He’s still wearing clothes stained with the blood that had been on the ground when he sat waiting for the ambulance and he knows that he must look like a complete wreck. There’s also no denying that a nap sounds really, really tempting. After making Burt promise multiple times to keep him updated, he started making his way back home.

Inside the apartment he broke down again. The table was still set with the remains of the meal Kurt prepared and they both decided to put off clearing. He saw marks on the wineglass left by Kurt’s lips. All in all, the whole place looks like they had both only stepped out for a minute. There was no physical evidence that anything bad had happened and this only enraged Sebastian more. He resisted the urge to start screaming and breaking things, moving instead into the bathroom and slowly beginning to put himself back together. The shower did nothing comforting other than remove layers of grime.

“At least when Kurt wakes up he won’t be able to joke about me looking homeless,” he said to the empty room. He had to think like this, because believing that Kurt won’t ever walk back into this apartment was unthinkable.

He almost chose to nap on the couch rather than face the emotional turmoil of their bed, but he realizes that’s just stupid and burrowed quickly under the covers after setting an alarm. It felt like no more than a minute before his ringing phone roused him. He answered quickly upon seeing that it’s Burt and pointedly ignored his accelerated heart rate.

“Hey, kid. Sorry if I woke you.”

“Nono, it’s fine. What happened? Is he awake?” 

Even through his eagerness for news he realized that Burt just called him “kid.” Burt never called him that. He futilely attempted to brace for the worst.

“He is,” Burt said slowly.

Sebastian let out a brief sob of relief, even though he knew a “but” was coming next.

“But he… I don’t know how to tell you this, kid…”

“Please. Just tell me,” Sebastian said earnestly. He needed to hear whatever it was.

“Sebastian, he doesn’t remember you. He thinks he’s still in Lima.”

Of all the awful possibilities that Sebastian spent the last two days turning over in his mind, this was not one of them. He didn’t know how to respond and after a long pause he heard Burt’s voice distantly coming through the earpiece.

“Sebastian? Sebastian are you still there?”

“Yeah,” he croaked, unsure of what to say next before settling on, “should I… do you think I should come back?”

Burt sighed again.

“Honestly I think you should wait, at least until tomorrow. He’s still really confused and freakin’ out. I’m sorry.”

“Right, right,” Sebastian muttered more to himself than to the man on the other end of the line, “ok. I guess, um, call me.”

“I will,” Burt assured him. “In light of , ya know, everything, I think it’s safe to say that I want him to come home with me for awhile. Even if he wakes up and magically remembers everything in the morning he’s probably not gonna be able to go back to school in a few weeks. Carole and I can take care of him while—”

“I can take care of him,” Sebastian cut him off defensively.

“I know you can,” Burt said softly, obviously aware of Sebastian’s upset state, “but you have school and a million things to do. You can’t just be there all the time. And I hate sayin’ it, but right now he doesn’t even know where he lives, and depending on how far back this memory loss goes, you might be a total stranger to him.”

This last part hit Sebastian like a well-thrown punch. Though he had heard Burt’s words earlier, it wasn’t until just then that reality truly began sinking in. He imagined seeing Kurt now, only to have him stare back at him blankly. At that thought he swore he could actually hear his heart breaking.

“I’m so sorry, Sebastian, and I know this is gonna be hard, but do you think you could start packing some of his things? Anything might happen the next couple of days, so I don’t know for how long he’ll be in Ohio—”

“It’s ok, I get it. We were thinking about moving soon, anyway, so maybe getting everything packed isn’t a bad idea.”

It was a lie. They hadn’t talked about moving at all. However, now Sebastian was certain that he couldn’t stay in this apartment without Kurt. He wasn’t even sure that he could stay in this city.

“Oh, ok,” Burt said, caught a little off guard, “Thank you. I know this can’t be easy for you and I really am sorry.”

“You’re just protecting him,” Sebastian said hollowly, “and I love him, so thank you.”

“I’m tryin’, kid. I’m tryin’.”

Sebastian nodded even though nobody could see him, barely containing a sob. He needed to get off the phone and have a proper mental collapse.

“I know,” he croaked, “just… just let me know what I can do, ok?”

“Ok,” Burt told him confidently, “Try to take care of yourself, Sebastian.”

“You, too,” Sebastian managed before hanging up and tossing his phone back on the nightstand. He wanted to cry and scream and beat the living shit out of something, but at the same time he felt entirely numb. At some point he lay back down and closed his eyes. He pulled Kurt’s pillow over and buried his face in it, finally succumbing to the tide of tears that had been hovering at the edge of his emotions since Burt called. It was like this, with his arms wrapped around the pillow, surrounded by reminders of the life he and Kurt had just started building together, that Sebastian eventually fell into a deep, blessedly dreamless sleep.


End file.
